It’s something he’s been looking forward to for weeks: an extended weekend – case pending, of course. Four whole days to himself – four days of mother nature and what he can carry on his back. Camping in the fall carries its risks, of course, the most prominent being the quickly declining and somewhat unpredictable temperatures, but he’s an experienced woodsman and has complete faith in his own abilities… even if others don’t.

Reid, for instance.

The barrage of statistics start the moment he hears of Derek’s plan. Derek is, quite understandably, annoyed. He can toss in as many percentages and probabilities as he’d like – the statistics are still just a clever way of calling him an idiot in his opinion.

He’s even more annoyed when he hears that Spencer has no personal experience to support his own reservations and opinions, and that is something Derek fully intends on changing.

Eyebrows raise and he reels around, turning back to give him a somewhat dumb-founded look. “You’ve never been camping?” he repeats, eyebrows inching further up. The revelation is far less surprising than he makes it seem. He scoffs, forehead smoothing, and gives a slight shake of his head. “Nuh-uh. That ain’t gonna fly, pretty boy.” There’s a small hand gesture and everything, a flick of his wrist that translates into: no dice. “This weekend – you and me. Meet me at mine, bright and early – say, 0700 hours? –“ a pause and, lips twitching into a faint smirk, he eyes Spencer up and down. “Dress warm,” he advises, flicking his eyebrows up as his eyes meet his again. He takes a step back and turns, continuing his way before Spencer can argue.

He encourages Spencer to pack his own supplies – despite having a second rucksack packed and ready to go in the cab of his truck, hidden behind the second seat. He’s interested to see what the other man considers a necessity.

He, himself, is dressed in heavy jeans, wool socks, hiking boots, two long sleeved shirts and a flannel jacket with a military style puffer vest overtop, its pockets giving him easy access to a few necessities like his pocket knife, bait kit, water purifying tablets and flare. He tugs a hat over his ears and meets Spencer outside of his place, laughter quickly lining his features. It seems Spencer’s taken his advice to dress warm to its literal, maximum meaning – he bobs back and forth a bit, features twisting under exaggerated confusion: “Reid – man, is that you? Did someone try suffocating you?”

He’s somewhat surprised he can even walk under the weight of all of that – at first glance it appears he’s wearing more than an amateur skier would on the highest peaks.

His laughter fades a bit, although his amusement lingers, coloring the hue of each iris, and he raises both eyebrows.

“So, where’s your stuff?”

He quickly regrets asking that: Spencer’s brought four bags. Derek lifts the biggest up with the intention of moving it into the cab of his truck; instead he blanches, a scoff catching in his throat as he quickly sets it down on the ground. “Is this full of books?” he asks incredulously.  

repost. don’t reblog.
rules: Pick four colors you associate with your muse. Then use the gif search-function and search for the color. Post one gif for each color. Tag 10 other roleplayers to do this. Tagged by: no one, just wanted to do it... Tagging: @eidetic187, @brokenalphabau, @jenniferjareaufbi, @elephantmemory, @agentxrossi, @spencxreid, @beautyxndbrcins, @runningwiththeboysx, @duogenius, @memoricm Derek's Colors: Caramel, Crimson, Yellow, Grey

Now that the decision has been made, Derek follows through, opening the door for Spencer as they enter the restaurant. He can already smell the spices - it makes his stomach growl and he thinks of the Thai place down the street from his mama's, back home in Chicago. He's grateful when they're lead to a table toward the back - it's not that he's ashamed by any means, but he rather likes he idea of keeping this to themselves - retaining some sense of privacy and normalcy while they figure things out.

They look over the menu and make absent small talk, both mulling over their choices, and Derek searches for something to say once their orders have been placed and the menus taken.

He's uncertain of what all they have in common - little, on surface level, and tries to remember that doesn't necessarily mean they're not compatible. He ends up - somehow - telling Spencer a story about Desiree getting her head stuck in the banister of their apartment building when they were little because he dared her.

It doesn't take long for Spencer to surface, light flooding the pavement, pouring from the lobby and pushing his silhouette forward. Derek offers him a smile, stomach flipping, and greets, "'ey, kid."

His stomach tightens, nerves doing an Irish jig, and Spencer gives him a nervous smile, motioning to his truck. Derek nods, hesitating so that they're walking beside each other. Should he open his door for him? What's the protocol on dates like these? They're both men - but does that really even have anything to do with it? He doesn't know and right then probably isn't the time to be having a crisis involving his sexuality (again).

So he compromises with himself, thinking fast: he'll open the door at the restaurant, so it's less awkward. And if that goes well, he'll open the door to his truck afterward.

There. That wasn't so hard, was it?

His nerves seem to disagree and he hurries around to climb in his own seat.

He turns the key in the ignition and shifts to drive, heading out of the lot and onto the main highway. He glances over at Spencer, a small smile finding his lips, warmth chasing some of his anxieties away. "Right back atch'ya," he says lightly, meaning it - for the most part. The sweater vest is a bit much for Derek's tastes, but it seems to work for the other man. He reaches over and flicks his tie, smile widening. "Bold pattern. I like it," he half-teases, half-compliments, glancing to the road.

Not only have we not gotten the computer set up because the drywall is in the way (le buttdick is hoping to put it up this weekend), I now have a new distraction, whose name is Loki. So. Sorry I haven't been on, except for mobile, and super selective while being so. I miss all of you!

Derek scoffs a bit when Spencer says he's impressive, a clash of emotion hitting him - he's a bit boastful, of course, confidence surging - but he's amused, too, because his confidence sometimes falters and he isn't sure what exactly he's revealed to Spencer that makes him so impressive.

"How about this? Just be yourself," he counters, a bit of amusement lining the words. He's being honest, though - if Spencer himself, with his giant brain and IQ can't impress Derek - well, then, maybe the universe got it wrong.

Before he can offer any more advice, they're in his truck and Spencer's proving how fast his mouth can work - he's talking. A lot.

Derek finds it more amusing than anything else and, for the most part, simply listens. After he drops Spencer off and makes his own way home, he does a few dozen push ups and sit ups and hops in the shower. After a quick shave, cleaning up his goatee, he tries finding something to wear. He ends up changing into a pair of dark slacks and a bronze colored button up, white shirt peaking through its collar; he doesn't want to be too dressy but he thinks he should look nice, too, but the nerves in his stomach make him want to change.

He doesn't, uncertain if the nerves are his own or Spencer's.

He brushes his teeth and spritz on some cologne before heading out, stomach flipping. His nerves Inge such the closer to six thirty it gets and he's fairly certain most of them are Spencer's.

Soon, he's pulling into his apartment lot, eyes drawn to the floor Spencer said he lives on. He doesn't know an apartment number, though, and so instead of heading on up, Derek simply walks to the front of the building to meet him.

His eyebrows creep up as Spencer looks at him, face slowly turning pink, squished against his desk; Derek presses his lips against a smile, amusement shining in his eyes at the confession. "You're trying to impress me, huh?" he asks, a bit flattered. It's sort of endearing.

He walks with him toward the elevator, nodding when he says he'd like a ride. And then again when he asks about dinner.

"Mmhm, unless you've already decided you're sick of me," he teases. He bumps his shoulder against his, the touch eliciting a shock of warmth.

He digs his keys out of his pocket, pressing the button and then stepping into the elevator when it opens. He can feel Spencer's nerves tickling his stomach. He glances at the other man. "Thai food still good?" A pause and then, considering they're alone, "I can pick you up around six thirty if that's cool?"

He can tell Spencer's a bit put off by his lack of reaction. He feels a bit guilty, able to pick apart the reaction afterwards and decipher his eagerness. He gives him a small, soft smile, looking up as Hotch and Gideon arrive. He glances at Spencer again and gives him a slight nod before stepping back and toward his desk.

The day drags.

He feels distracted, likely because of the vibes he's getting from Spencer - the distorted sort of focus - obsession, even - and the fluttering in his gut.

But no matter how it drags, it still ends.

And when it does, he's moving to his feet and joking with JJ about something Hotch had said earlier that week. He glances toward Spencer as the other man lays his head against his desk and he meanders on over, bending down with his hands on his knees to greet: "Boo."

It's said with a crooked grin and then he's straightening, eyebrows raising. "Need a ride again, pretty boy?" he asks, fingers twitching against the urge to reach out and touch him - maybe ruffle his hair... offer some sort of physical comfort.

Derek raises both eyebrows when he tells him he has to turn around. He stares at him expectantly before realizing he's being serious - with a deep, sharp inhale, Derek turns around, coffee still in hand. He takes a generous sip, humming the jeopardy theme song with a bit of a smirk.

He turns back when signaled to, watching the contraption with a wary gaze. He glances to Spencer's face, lips twitching at the look of the concentration there - his gaze reels to the contraption as it shoots off, letting out a loud pop. He doesn't flinch, although he does scoff as it comes to a landing on someone else's desk.

"How is that magic?" he asks slowly, looking to Spencer again. "I mean, no offense and all but - isn't that more like science? Y'know, a bottle rocket?" He and some other kids used to make homemade bottle rockets and shoot them into abandoned buildings. What can he say? He was a dumb teenager. His lips spread into a faint smile, small but genuine and maybe begrudgingly impressed. "Still, pretty good."

He hears the hesitation in his voice and his smile softens, becoming less crooked; he could feel his nerves, of course, and it's simultaneously endearing and annoying. Derek's had first date nerves before - he doesn't need to experience Spencer's too. And then Derek feels something different, something more muted - guilt, maybe? Regret?

His smile softens further. He feels like he should say something, should reassure him that it isn't his fault - nothing he felt lastnight is - but the words won't come and then it's gone. Spencer's brightening and Derek chuckles, pressing his lips against an amused smile.

"What - do I have a quarter in my ear?" he teases, reaching up with his free hand to grope dramatically. His smile reveals itself and he shrugs, hand returning to his side. "Knock yourself out, kid."

Derek's lips spread into a small but genuine smile at the sound of his laugh. His eyebrows raise and it's with a tilt of his head that he gives him a look clearly saying 'you heard me.' And then Spencer's going on about his caffeine - nay, sugar - intake and it's Derek's turn to roll his eyes. 'I'm small to begin with.'

"Meaning it impacts you even more," he points out with a raised brow. His forehead smooths and he chuckles when Spencer ignores him, instead insisting it's what makes him sweet and lovable. "Mm, I guess I like you the way you are," he teases, giving him a slight side-smile. He takes a sip of his own coffee, savoring the bitter flavor before swallowing. "So what brings you in so early, kid?" he asks, motioning to the papers on his desk with a jerk of his head.